Summer of Change
by Elizabeth Goode
Summary: Set between The Red Trailer Mystery and The Gatehouse Mystery. Jim Frayne reconciles his three very different lives.
1. Chapter 1

Summer of Change by Elizabeth Goode

Part: I  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Couldn't even afford them. No money has been made from my use of them.

* * *

"... and weeding the garden for Moms, and watching Bobby, and helping Dad clean out the garage - I didn't rescue you, Jim Frayne, you rescued me!" The blond-haired teenager hopped down from Lady's back and gave the sweet mare a gentle pat on the head and a slipped her a sugar cube.

"Huh?" Jim stared, confused. Trixie had been talking nonstop for at least fifteen minutes, ever since he had tried to express to her his heartfelt gratitude for finding him earlier in the summer. With Honey and Mrs. Wheeler gone for the day into the city to shop for school clothes and supplies, today had been the perfect opportunity to take Trixie for a ride in the game preserve.

She sighed impatiently. "I mean it, Jim. I was so bored! I had nothing to do but work, I was lonely and feeling a bit sorry for myself. Honey moving into the Manor House was fantastic, but I'm still not sure we would have become such good friends if we hadn't found you. She was mad at me for going inside the Mansion, you know. If you hadn't been there, I'm not sure she would have wanted to hang out with me again. Especially after Queenie attacked her! And going on that road trip definitely sealed the friendship. So, you gained me two friends this summer. You and Honey. Three, if you count Regan. Though, I'm still not sure he's over the whole runaway horse thing." She gave Jupiter a reproachful glare. "You tricked me, Jupe. I thought you liked me."

Jim laughed, wondering to himself if anything could have been more endearing than Trixie's entreaty to the horse's conscience, and reached out to take a sugar cube from Trixie's stash to feed to Jupiter. He gently caressed the horse's velvety ears. "Don't listen to her, boy. She's been known to exaggerate. For example, making a hero out of me for running like a scared rabbit."

Trixie put a hand on his arm. "You weren't running like a coward, Jim. You were running for your life. You're not a grown-up, no matter how many grades you skipped. I don't want to hear you put yourself down like that." She blushed furiously and removed her hand from his arm. "And you really did rescue me. You rescued me from not knowing Honey and Regan and the Wheelers and ... you."

Jim's face had gone as red as his hair, and she giggled. "You don't take compliments well, do you, Jim?"

He shook his head. "It's going to take a while to get used to hearing them, I guess. It's been awhile."

Smoothly, she passed Lady's reins over to him and grinned. "If you're going to keep doing nice things like offering to take care of Lady and her tack after we've had a ride, you'll definitely have to get used to hearing me talk about Jim Frayne, the Most Wonderful Boy In The World. I have to get home if I'm going to help Moms get ready for tonight. Are you still coming over?"

He nodded mutely. The Most Wonderful Boy In The World? Him? Did she really say that? "Hey! I didn't offer to - "

"Thanks, Jim. You're such a gentleman!"

"Wait! Trixie Belden, you tricked me!"

He felt his heart pound in his chest when she stuck her head back in the stable. She feigned a swoon, placing her hand to her forehead. "My hero!"

As he watched her jog down the driveway toward Crabapple Farm, he felt happy. A true, warm, happiness he wasn't sure if he'd felt since before his father had died.

He put Lady back into her stall to wait while he finished with Jupiter, and whispered to the horse, "No, she's _my_ hero. And, my special girl. She just doesn't know it yet, that's all."

The massive black horse whinnied softly, as if in agreement.

* * *

After he had finished with the horses, Jim made his way to the veranda, where he decided to rest for a moment before going to his room to shower and get ready for the cookout at Crabapple Farm. He stretched out on the glider, blocking the sun from his face with his arms.

His room. His own room, here at the Manor House. It was big, much larger than even the living room had been at his old house where he had lived with his parents before his father's death. His room at the Manor House had its own private bathroom attached. He had an entire closet full of clothes, most of which had been selected for him by Mrs. Wheeler and Miss Trask. He had been more than a little bit bewildered at the prospect of spending an entire afternoon shopping for clothing, and so Mrs. Wheeler had had his measurements taken, and gone shopping with Miss Trask.

There was a bicycle in one of the garages for him, and he had been given the same line of credit at Wimpy's and Crimper's as Honey. While Mrs. Wheeler and Miss Trask bought clothing, Jim spent the afternon with Mr. Wheeler, hearing all about his school days with Winthrop Frayne. So far, so good, he thought as the breeze rocked the glider gently. Now, if he could only stop thinking of the Wheelers as Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler and think of them as his parents.

His life with his parents had been idyllic, and now the jaded teenager in him wondered if his memories of Katje and Winthrop Frayne weren't somehow made bigger and brighter than life by the shadow his life with Jonesy had cast upon them.

He could remember at least twice when his father had been very angry with him. Once, when he was six and had handled his father's BB gun without permission, and once when he was nine and had gotten into trouble at school for fighting. Winthrop Frayne hadn't cared that he had been righteously defending the honor of a girl whose lunch had been stolen by the class bully. He had been informed that there were better ways of solving the problem than fighting, and had been grounded for a week.

He had fought with his mother when she first started seeing Jonesy - in his grief over the loss of his father, accusing her of trying to replace him. He had said some pretty terrible things to her, and she had not allowed it, even then. He had apologized to her, of course. Of course, even the 'bad' memories of times when he had been grounded or scolded were good memories now that they were gone. They had just been trying to mold him into a good citizen, helping him understand how to behave.

He wondered what his mother would have said if she could have heard him shout at Trixie and Honey when they had first found him at Ten Acres. If she had seen the son she had raised to be polite and treat women with respect aiming a gun at two teenage girls and making threats? He sighed, turning over to rest his eyes from the sun and prevent his forearms from sunburning.

It bothered him to think of what his time spent living with Jonesy had turned him into. The things he had forgotten about himself. He had scarcely remembered some of his likes and dislikes after being deprived of most choices for so long. Jonsey decided what was for dinner and how much was enough. Jonsey gave him clothes to wear. Jonesy decided when it was time to wake up and go to sleep. And, if Jonesy decided to beat him, he had discovered that there was no way to stop him.

Memories of the abuse he had suffered at the hands of his stepfather sometimes made him feel queasy. He hated having to talk about it with the Wheelers - the idea of people pitying the poor, abused orphan made him wish he could sink into the floor and disappear. Trixie and Mr. Wheeler were the only ones who knew who didn't look at him with pity. Mr. Wheeler had sworn to Jim that Jonesy would never harm him again and had explained that he had pulled out every stop to ensure that the man spent the maximum time in prison. Whenever the subject was even hinted at, Trixie's blue eyes were filled with anger. For some reason, he found this comforting.

As he drifted off to sleep on the glider, his last conscious thought was of Trixie laughing at him earlier in the day as he landed on the ground with Bobby and Reddy scrambling over him to take back the ratty old tennis ball he and Trixie had been using in a rousing match of Keep Away with the boy and the dog. Trixie's laugh was one of his favorite sounds, he decided, just before sleep overtook him.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Summer of Change  
by Elizabeth Goode  
Part: II  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Couldn't even afford them. No money has been made from my use of them.

* * *

Jim wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep on the glider, but he did know that the sloppy, wet tongue that had awakened him belonged to the Beldens' Irish setter, Reddy. Before he opened his eyes, he dashed the doggie drool from his face, groaning, "Reddy, I think there could be a slight case of halitosis going on here. Your breath smells like death and kibble!"

He opened his eyes and looked right up into Reddy's open mouth. The setter was giving him his very best doggie grin. Sitting up, he gave the dog a pat on the head, which sent the excitable canine into a series of gleeful rolls on the grass.

"Halitosis, Reddy. It means bad breath."

The blank, adoring stare he received in return was priceless. Poor Reddy. Trixie had explained how everyone had tried to train him at once, resulting in one of the most poorly trained dogs Jim had ever met. What Reddy lacked in brains, he certainly made up for in devotion and affection. He was a truly sweet-natured animal, and that was more important than his comprehension of the word, 'Sit.'

"Sit, Reddy! Sit!" He commanded. The setter cocked his head for a moment, then walked over to Jim and licked his hand. He petted the silky red fur, chuckling.

"We can't all be rocket scientists, can we, boy?" Reddy slurped his hand again, wagging his tail, cheerfully unaware that his intelligence had just been questioned. "What are you doing up here by yourself anyway? Does Trixie know where you are?"

_Excellent, Frayne. Now you're not just talking to a dog, you're asking him yes and no questions._

He stood and stretched. "Bark once for yes, bark twice for no." _Yes, and now you're joking with a dog. I'm pretty sure if he doesn't get 'sit', he's not going to get sarcasm._

Ruffling Reddy's fur one more time, he was surprised when the setter barked once. "So, Trixie does know where you are. Did she - "_Oh, crap! Trixie! The cookout at Crabapple Farm! _ He glanced at his wristwatch, and was dismayed to see that it was already after six. He **had** to take a shower. He still smelled like horse, and he didn't want to stink at Trixie's cookout. Giving Reddy an apologetic smile, he pointed toward Crabapple Farm and commanded, "Home, Reddy! Go on home!" Jim dashed for the Manor House to get ready, not at all surprised when the setter loped along behind him, ignoring his direction.

* * *

Jim found himself wishing that _someone_ was at home to walk over to the Beldens' with him. Honey had gone into White Plains with Miss Trask and Mrs. Wheeler to shop for school supplies. They would be arriving at the cookout late. Mr. Wheeler had called home to let Jim know that he would also be running a bit late for the party, and had instructed him to ask Cook for a pie to contribute as a dessert. If there was one thing that Jim was certain he could never become accustomed to, it was the presence of the house staff. The idea of the Cook and the maids and the chauffer - it was more than a little bit daunting.

Why was he so nervous? He liked the Beldens and had been over to Crabapple Farm several times before. Trixie would be there, and he always looked forward to spending time with her.

_This is ridiculous! I've lived in the wilderness for weeks on end, and I'm too scared to ask the Cook for a pie!_

The truth of the matter was that he just wasn't sure how to proceed and nothing threw Jim off more than uncertainty. Was he supposed to knock on the kitchen door? What if she wasn't there? Did he knock on the door to her private quarters? Use the intercom system to locate her? Should he just search the kitchen himself?

Tentatively, he pushed open the kitchen door, calling, "Hello?" When there was no reply, he was vaguely relieved. He wasn't sure how one addressed one's Cook. Did he call her 'Cook', or 'Ma'am', or Mrs. - Mrs. - whatever-her-name-was?

_Okay, if I were a pie, where would I be?_

He began rummaging through the pantry, searching for anything that resembled a pie, and he became so engrossed in his task, that Celia had to clear her throat twice to get his attention. Startled, he looked up to see the petite, blond maid watching him with laughter in her eyes.

"Looking for something?" Celia wasn't wearing her uniform today, and she held a platter of deviled eggs balanced against her hip.

"A pie. Mr. Wh - I mean, my fath - I mean, my dad - he called to say he's running late and told me to ask Cook for a pie, but she wasn't here, and I wasn't sure what to call her anyway, and I'm nervous about Trixie's cookout, and I can't even find the darned pie!" All of his frustration came out in that one awkward sentence and he found that instead of feeling better, he felt embarrassed again.

Celia smiled, setting down her platter on the counter. "Relax. Breathe." She patted his shoulder gently. "You can ride with Tom and me and Regan to the cookout. We'd walk over, but I'm not carrying a platter of deviled eggs all that way. First things first. Today is Cook's day off. Your dad never remembers which days she has off. Secondly, you can call her Cook, or Mrs. Van Hoef. She's pretty nice, so she's not going to be upset with you either way. Honey calls her Cook, and she seems to like that just fine. Thirdly, Cook told me yesterday that the pie she baked was on the top shelf in the pantry, but I can't reach it - so, if you could just use your height advantage, we can be on our way. We've kept poor Trixie waiting long enough, don't you think? She doesn't have a lot of patience, does she?"

Somehow, Celia had managed to put most of his fears and insecurities to rest with her little speech. He did as she asked and retrieved the pie, mustering a grin. "Patience? Trixie? Not two words I'd use together in a sentence."

Outside the kitchen door, Tom honked the horn of the sedan. Celia grumbled, "Speaking of people who lack patience ... " She stuck her head out the window and shouted, "Hold your horses, Tom! Give us a minute!"

Curious, Jim asked, "Who's Tom?"

Blushing a delicate pink color, Celia answered, "Tom Delanoy. My date for the cookout. He knows the Beldens pretty well, and he and Regan went on a double date with me and one of my friends once. Tom loves to drive. He's as much of a car nut as Regan is a horse nut." She peeled back the foil that covered the pie Jim had retrieved. "Mmm. Strawberry pie."

"Trixie likes Strawberry. She gets a strawberry pop at Mr. Lytell's store."

Celia smiled knowingly. "You are going to be good for Trixie, you know that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know her well, but I do know Honey, and Honey likes to talk. Honey's just crazy about her, but she told me that Trixie doesn't always have as much confidence as she might seem to have on the surface. Honey is the only friend Trixie had out here who wasn't one of her siblings, and with Brian and Mart gone for most of the summer, she was looking at a pretty lonely summer. Now, she not only has Honey, but also you. Miss Trask has talked a lot about how good for Honey you and Trixie have been, but I think you and Honey were just as good for Trixie."

"I never thought of it that way, but I guess you're right. Thanks, Celia."

"Don't mention it. Now, one last thing."

"What's that?" Jim asked.

"Relax, and have fun. We're going to a party, and it's going to be a blast. Now, get the door for me, would you? This egg platter is awkwardly shaped."

Jim held the door for Celia and followed her to the blue car, which was waxed to shining brilliance. Regan stood at the passenger window, talking to Tom. It was obvious that the groom was waiting until the last possible second to get in the car.

When Celia and Jim reached the car, Tom got out to open the door for Celia. Once she was seated, he turned to Jim to shake hands. "I'm Tom Delanoy. Good to meet you. You must be Jim."

Surprised that Tom knew his name, Jim returned the handshake and answered him. "I'm Jim Frayne. How did you know me?"

Regan laughed, and from inside the car, Jim could hear Celia giggling.

Tom explained, "I work at the movie theater in Sleepyside, and I was a few years ahead of Trixie's brother Brian in school. Brian and I are pretty good friends, and so every time Trixie and Honey have come in for a matinee, they've done nothing but tell me all about you. According to those two, you hung the moon. Don't you dare tell them I told you that, though. I'm pretty sure Trixie would just about die of embarrassment if she knew I told you that."

Jim had to fight to keep from grinning like a goon as he got into the back seat of the car next to Regan. The red-haired groom disliked riding in a car, but had wanted to ride with his friends. When Tom started the engine, Regan mumbled something about it being a terrible idea to ride around in metal boxes powered by heat and gas - an explosion waiting to happen. Jim would have laughed, but his head was in the clouds. Trixie thought he hung the moon?

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Summer of Change  
by Elizabeth Goode  
Part: III  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Couldn't even afford them. No money has been made from my use of them.

* * *

The moment Jim got out of Tom's car at Crabapple Farm, he was immediately met by Trixie, who was wearing a blue sundress that matched her eyes. Her blond curls had been dampened so that they separated into bouncing ringlets.

"Jim! I thought you were coming early - we were starting to wonder where you were!"

She took the pie out of his hands and peeled back the foil that covered the top. A smile lit her face. "Mmm, strawberry! My favorite. Don't tell me you baked it yourself, 'cause if you can bake a pie better than me AND ride a horse better than me, I'm sunk!"

"I didn't bake it, Trixie. The uh ... that is, Mrs. Van Hoef, I mean, the Cook made it. And hid it."

"What?" Trixie's blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "You had a real mystery up there at the Manor House and you didn't think to give me a call?"

He laughed. "The Mystery of the Missing Pie. Sounds like a page-turner. Especially when the thrilling conclusion is that the missing pie was cleverly hidden inside the pantry."

"You've been up there looking for a pie that was in the pantry all along ever since I left?"

"No. First, I had to finish taking care of the horse that SOMEONE else was riding. Someone who might have tricked me into taking care of her tack?"

Trixie blushed. "I didn't expect you to actually fall for it. It was kind of an experiment. Or, as Bobby would say, a 'sperimen'."

Jim continued. "Then, I fell asleep on the glider. I'd probably still be up there sawing logs, if a certain red setter hadn't waked me up with bad breath and drool. The rest of the family is going to be late – Honey and her mom are shopping with Ms. Trask, and Mr. Wheeler is running late from work." The words felt awkward. He still couldn't figure out what to call Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, and from the expression that crossed Trixie's face, he knew that she had picked up on it.

Steering him along by the elbow, the pie clutched in her other arm, Trixie led him toward the house. She set the pie on a card table that held other dessert items as well, then pulled him into the house with her.

"What's going on, Trix? Everyone else is outside."

Impatiently, Trixie nodded. "I know. I wanted to show you something, and I didn't think you'd want to read it in front of everyone else. I already read it, but I think you should, too."

She produced from one of her dress pockets a letter. "Here. It's from Mrs. Smith, and there's a note from Joanne Darnell inside. Joanne's note is addressed to you, but Mrs. Smith's letter was to me and Honey. I want you to read it, though. Come on, the living room is probably more comfortable, and people are less likely to barge in on us."

In the Beldens' living room, Jim sat on the couch to read the letters while Trixie perched in Mr. Belden's recliner, waiting for him to finish.

_Dear Trixie and Honey, _

_It has been an eventful summer, on that I am sure you girls will agree with this old woman. Nat and I were surely suffering in our empty nest, but our house is happy once again. The Darnells are lovely people. Young Sally and her darling puppy are playing on the front lawn as I write this letter. Joanne is writing a letter of her own, sitting across the table from me. She wanted to tell Jim thank you in her own words. _

_I wanted to tell you girls how much my life has changed for the better since meeting you. And, I wanted you to know that even though I would still adopt that dashing young redhead in a heartbeat, I think the right choice was made. I'm glad he'll have a sister and a mother and a father. And, a little blond friend down the road. You girls tell Jim to come and visit an old lady sometime, and you both come along with him! I'll bake enough food to feed an army. _

_I very much wanted this to be an entirely happy letter, but I fear it is not to be so. Mrs. Darnell is very ill, and the doctors aren't optimistic. Nat and I have talked with Mr. Darnell and made arrangements in case the worst should happen. He will stay on and work for us on the farm, and the children will always have a home here, even if he should need to move on to find work. Stability is important for children, even teenagers like you girls and Jim. I would like all three of you to stay in touch. Give my love to Jim. _

_Love,_

_Mrs. Nat Smith_

Jim looked up, smiling. "She's a nice woman. She treated me kindly, and she didn't have any way of knowing I wasn't some bum or a thief. I think I would have been happy living with her and Nat on the farm, but I think I couldn't BE happier to be here with the Wheelers and Honey and you."

"I'm glad you're glad. That Mrs. Smith had Honey and I so worried! We were afraid you'd want to stay with her and even after we looked everywhere for you we wouldn't get to keep you!"

He couldn't help it. The way Trixie had put it, it sounded like he was a lost puppy to be claimed. He burst out laughing. "Keep me? Shouldn't you ... you know, put up a flier or something? I can see it now: Found, one red-haired orphan. Free to good home."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it! Here, read Joanne's letter. I didn't open it because it was for you." She tossed the envelope in his direction and turned away, making an obvious effort to turn away and afford him privacy.

Knowing that there was nothing in the letter that he minded letting Trixie read, and knowing that her curiosity might very well kill her, he motioned for her to come and sit beside him. "Read it with me. It's not like there's anything you don't know. You were there, Trix."

Together, they read,

_Dear Jim, _

_I don't think I got the chance to tell you how glad I am you found me. If you hadn't cut my braid off, I probably would be stuck to that bush in the woods right now. Living here with Mrs. Smith is really great. Dad has a job and Mom can rest. I heard them talking. Mom's sick, and they don't know what's wrong with her. But we'll be okay. Sally and me help with the baby. And Mrs. Smith gives us cookies all the time. She's writing to Trixie and Honey right now, but I wanted to write to you. Tell Trixie and Honey thank you for helping us, and tell Honey thank you for Buddy. Sally loves him, and I think he's pretty cute, too. _

_Your friend, _

_Joanne Darnell_

He folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. "Joanne's a good kid. I had a bad feeling about Mrs. Darnell. I hope she's okay." The thought of Mrs. Darnell and her weakness and exhaustion turned his stomach. All he could think of was his mother, and how she had grown steadily weaker and weaker until she simply faded away. He wouldn't wish the loss of a mother on his worst enemy, let alone a sweet kid like Joanne. For a moment, he just stared, lost in thought.

"Jim? Jim, are you all right? You've turned kind of green …" Trixie's voice sounded far away, but he felt a tentative, warm hand on his forearm. It was like a lifeline, drawing him back from the frightening place he had gone to in his mind.

"Jim, I'm serious. Are you all right?"

He felt the slight pressure of a small but firm hand against his forehead.

"You don't have a fever …"

Unwilling to cause Trixie any more distress, he willed himself to snap out of it. "I'm fine, Trix. I just – just, it made me think of my mother, that's all."

Trixie's blue eyes widened in sympathy, and she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. From anyone else, a show of sympathy would have made him uncomfortable and like an object of pity. From Trixie, it didn't bother him. Her concern was touching.

"Gleeps, I'm sorry, Jim. Everything you've told me about your mom sounds like she was great."

He nodded. "She was. But, I didn't mean to be a killjoy. You're having a party! We should go back outside and mingle."

Stubbornly, she shook her head. "We have plenty of time. Your family isn't even here yet. Let's take a minute before we go back, okay?"

Gratefully, he settled back against the couch cushions, folding Joanne's letter and putting it in his pocket. "So, when do your brothers come back?"

Trixie teased, "Why? Are you tired of hanging around with a couple of girls all summer long?"

"No, I'm just curious, is all. Do you think we'll get along?"

"Well, you already have something in common with Mart. An insatiable urge to give me a hard time. The two of you can bond over that. I can see you and Brian hitting it off pretty well, too. You're both smart. Brian likes science and math a lot. And, he's joining the debate team this year."

"There's a debate team? I think I'd like that."

Trixie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I can definitely see you and Brian being fast friends. Just do me a favor and practice on each other and leave me out of it, okay? Debate team drives me insane."

Surprised, Jim replied, "Really? I would have thought you'd like it. You love to argue, that's for sure. And, you like solving things. I bet you'd like it if you gave it half a chance."

"I don't 'love to argue'! I just always seem to have to prove it to other people when I'm right."

"See? You love to argue."

"No, I don't!"

"You're doing it right now."

"No, you are."

Trixie fixed him with a rebellious glare, but dissolved into laughter when she saw that he was fighting a grin. Her giggle was infectious, and he found that he was compelled to laugh with her.

"Yes, I think you'll definitely fit in with my brothers. As a matter of fact, I think you were channeling both of them there for a moment!"

Their laughter was interrupted by Mrs. Belden. "Goodness! I take it the two of you are having a good time? Whatever is so funny?"

"Nothing much, Moms. I was just telling Jim a little bit about Brian and Mart, and the debate team at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High. Oh, and I showed him the letter from Mrs. Smith."

Helen Belden smiled at the two young people. "Trixie tells me that Mrs. Smith very nearly spirited you away from us. To hear her tell it, that dear old lady was practically an undercover agent sent to keep you from being our next-door neighbor."

"Moms!"

Trixie was blushing, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. Jim couldn't resist teasing her, just a little bit.

"You just watch it, Trix. If you stop being a good neighbor, I'll go visit Mrs. Smith and forget to come back! Who will you trick into cleaning your tack, then?"

The sound of a car coming up the driveway interrupted them. Trixie and her mother both peered out the window, and Trixie announced, "It's Honey! She's here!"

Helen Belden laughed. "The poor girl only just got out of the car, and Bobby's already intercepted her. Why don't the two of you rescue her? See if you can get him to play something active – he's still a little bit subdued after the incident with the snake bite earlier this summer."

Trixie sighed. "There should be some badminton equipment in the garage, and some tennis balls. Want to help me find it, Jim?"

He grinned. "Don't sound so excited. We had a lot of fun with that ratty old tennis ball earlier today. That is, until Reddy slobbered all over it. Lead the way, Trix. I'll be your pack mule – load me up with the badminton stuff, and I'll go set it up."

"Pack mule is right," Trixie sniffed, tossing her hair. "Stubborn and strong."

Following her out to the garage, he protested, "Stubborn? Me? Where did you get an idea like that?"

Helen Belden watched the two of them, and smiled to herself. One day, in the far future, she imagined a stubborn, red-haired son-in-law married to her stubborn, blond-haired daughter. Visions of small, stubborn grandchildren danced in her head.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Summer of Change  
by Elizabeth Goode  
Part: IV  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Couldn't even afford them. No money has been made from my use of them.

* * *

Trixie and Jim met Honey outside, and together, the three of them set up the badminton net. Or, rather, Jim set up the badminton net while the girls wrangled Bobby out of his way. The exuberant six-year-old seemed determined to crash through the net with his canine entourage, which included Reddy and a friendly-but-unfamiliar collie.

"Bobby! Would you PLEASE just hold still for a moment? Once Jim gets the net up, we can play, okay?" Trixie let out an exasperated sigh as Reddy took hold of the net in his teeth and pulled. "Drop it! Reddy, let go!" She tried to pull the net away from the setter, but only succeeded in convincing the collie that she was playing. Reddy joined in, and Bobby followed suit.

Honey had the giggles, so much so, that it was catching. As annoyed as she was with Bobby and the disobedient Reddy and his collie friend, Trixie couldn't stop herself. In seconds, she was giggling along with her friend. She let out a shriek as the friendly collie tripped Honey, causing her to sit down hard on the lawn, the net wrapped around her right arm. Trixie couldn't back up in time, and tripped over Honey.

Jim had managed to drive one side of the badminton net into the yard, but now he looked in dismay at the tangled mess at the other end of the net. His dismay quickly changed to merriment at the sight of Honey and Trixie hopelessly entwined with the net, Bobby, and two dogs. He couldn't help it. He let go of the net and laughed.

"Jim Frayne! You stop laughing at us this minute and help us get out of this mess!" Trixie was indignant, but unable to keep from giggling even through her indignation.

By now, they had attracted the attention of the other guests. Peter and Helen Belden, Matthew and Madeleine Wheeler, Ms. Trask, Regan, Celia and Tom, Mr. Lytell, several of Peter Belden's co-workers from the bank, the ladies from Helen Belden's garden club, and several others watched in amusement.

Jim untangled the two dogs first, then Bobby. He gave the six-year-old a very important task. "Bobby, I want you to do me a very big favor. It's your job to keep Reddy and his friend busy while I get our sisters untangled. Can you do that for me?"

The boy nodded, obviously taking his assigned task very seriously. He pulled from his pocket the ratty tennis ball that had been used earlier in the day and threw it. Both dogs ran after it, and Bobby followed.

It only took a minute for Jim to untangle Honey, who was still suffering from her giggle fit, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Th-thanks, Jim. I – I, oh! I can't laugh any more!"

Somehow, Trixie had managed to get the worst of the bargain. Her foot had gone through the net, and she was missing a shoe. There was grass in her blond curls, and she was trying not to look at Honey so she wouldn't start laughing again.

She asked, innocently, "Could you give me a hand, Jim?"

Her blue eyes widened, and he was struck by how pretty she was. The blue in her dress made her eyes seem even more blue than usual, and the grass decorating her blond curls was endearing. He reached out to offer her assistance, and found himself down on the lawn in an instant. The end of the net that he _had_ managed to assemble collapsed, covering both of them.

"Trixie! You did that on purpose!"

"You bet I did! I wasn't about to let you be the hero and tease me about it for the rest of the summer! I've got brothers, I know how this sort of thing works!"

By this time, Peter Belden and Tom Delanoy had decided to take on the badminton net assembly and freed the two teenagers. Unfortunately, not before Reddy's companion seized Trixie's shoe and loped away. One shoe down, Trixie kicked off the other one and gave chase.

"Bobby! Hold onto that dog! Get the shoe!" Trixie shouted, running across the yard at breakneck speed, Jim right behind her.

Bobby Belden did as his sister asked, engaging the renegade collie with the tennis ball. Trixie's shoe fell, forgotten from the animal's mouth. Jim retrieved the shoe, dangling it gingerly between his thumb and forefinger.

"Here you go, Cinderella. Your slipper."

He could have sworn that she blushed as she accepted the shoe, but he wasn't sure ... it could have been the heat ...

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Summer of Change  
by Elizabeth Goode  
Part: V  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Couldn't even afford them. No money has been made from my use of them.

* * *

In the dead of night, Jim awakened suddenly, immediately sitting up in his bed. Sweat stood out on his forehead and he got out of bed to raise the window. He needed fresh air. His dream had been bad, bad enough that he found himself hoping fervently that he had not cried out loudly enough for the Wheelers to hear him. Sitting at his bedroom window, he turned on a lamp. There wasn't any way he was going to fall asleep now, not after the nightmare he had just experienced. In his dream, he had been hiding from Jonesy in the summerhouse, and it had caught fire from the burning mansion. Forced to choose between burning to death and suffocating, he had tried to sneak out a side window, only to be caught by his stepfather. He wasn't sure which part scared him more - the part where he could feel the heat of the flames searing his lungs or the part where Jonesy removed his belt and started toward him.

Shuddering at the memory of the dream and the memories of the reality that inspired it, he picked up a book and settled onto the window seat to read. A shrill, piercing shriek from the room across the hall startled him so badly he jumped. _Honey! Something's wrong!_ Without a second thought, he ran out into the hallway, ready to throw open the door and take on whatever had frightened his sister. His common sense got the better of him. If she was scared from a dream, as the case probably was, the last thing she needed was for him to come barreling into her room and startle her all the more.

Gently, he pushed open the door, just enough to see inside. Honey was sitting up in her bed, her blankets and sheets a tangled mess. Her slim shoulders shook in silent sobs.

"Honey?"

She looked up in surprise, her face tearstained and pale. "Jim? I'm s-sorry I woke you up. I thought I-I was d-done having nightmares."

Jim felt a rush of sympathy for Honey. Trixie had told him a lot about how Honey used to have bad dreams so often that Ms. Trask used to spend a lot of nights on a pull-out bed in Honey's suite. It seemed that he and his new sister had a lot more in common than it seemed.

He sat down on the bed beside her and pulled her into a hug. "You didn't wake me up, sis. I - I had a nightmare, too. I was up and reading when I heard you. I don't think anyone else even heard anything."

Honey hiccupped miserably, trying to get her crying under control. "I feel like such a big baby!"

"You're not a baby. Nightmares aren't anything to sneeze at. I couldn't go back to sleep after mine."

Jim straightened out the tangled sheet, separating it from the tangled blankets. He then turned her sweat-soaked pillow over. "There. Now, lay back down."

She did as he instructed. "Jim?"

"What is it, sis?"

"What did you dream about?"

He sighed, not really wanting to think about the frightening images in his nightmare, but when he studied Honey's pale, tear streaked face, he realized that if he told her about his dream, she would feel comfortable talking to him about hers. Reluctantly, he began, "I dreamed about the fire at the mansion. About the summerhouse catching fire with me inside it. I almost suffocated, then went out the side window and got caught by Jonesy. That's when I woke up."

Honey squeezed his hand sympathetically. "That's terrible. I dreamed about - about that horrible dog, jumping at me. You know, the one you had to shoot up at the Mansion earlier this summer? I dreamed it was mad, and it bit me. I was scared, really scared."

Jim remembered the incident with amazing clarity. Especially, he remembered Trixie yelling at him for frightening Honey with tales of mad animals. He now understood why it had been such a big deal, and regretted relating the tale of the rabid weasel to his sensitive then-friend, now-sister. It had served no purpose, and now it was causing her needless fright. Why had he gotten so defensive with Trixie when she had tried to tell him before?

Sitting down next to her, he sighed. "You shouldn't worry about that. The chances of a mad dog getting hold of you are practically zero. On the off-chance that there was one anywhere near here, it would have to get through me first, and you've seen my track record firsthand. I wouldn't let something like that happen to you, especially now that I'm officially your brother. I'll be around all the time, and I won't let a mad dog within a mile of you if I can help it!"

Honey smiled. "Miss Trask always told me things like that when I had nightmares, but I could never picture Miss Trask taking hold of a giant black snake and wrestling it away from me. I always kind of pictured her trying, getting eaten, and the snake moving on to me." She giggled softly. "I can picture you shooting it or strangling it or something. That helps."

"Glad to be of service. James Winthrop Frayne, reporting for big brotherly duty, ma'am!" He saluted, and she laughed out loud.

"Now, what shall we do about yours?"

"My what?"

"Your nightmares. You're helping me, but what about you? Are you going to be able to go back to sleep tonight?"

He protested, "Honey, I - "

"Well, are you?"

Sheepishly, he admitted, "Probably not."

"So, if you ever have a nightmare and don't want to wake Mother and Daddy, you come and knock on my door. I don't care if you wake me up. We can talk or read or watch television - whatever you need. Okay?"

Her sincerity and gentleness went right to his heart, melting some of the residual ice left by his parents' deaths and his life with Jonesy. He was sitting on the corner of his little sister's bed - a sister he hadn't known all his life, not related by blood - but his sister nonetheless. So overwhelmed that he feared he might cry in front of her, he quickly tried to make his exit, but she still had a grip on his hand. When he looked up to meet her eyes, he was alarmed to find that she was crying.

"What? Honey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

She sniffed, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her pajamas. "I'm not sad, I'm happy! I'm just so glad I'm not going to be rattling around this big old house all by myself. I mean, it's great that Trixie's right down the hill, and she can stay the night sometimes, but if - if I didn't have you, I'd be all by myself!" She sniffed again. "I'm not doing a very good job of explaining, but - but I'm glad you're my brother. Really, really glad. You couldn't be a more perfect brother!"

"Perfectly perfect?" He teased gently. "Because I think I might disappoint a bit there. Perfect I can do. Perfectly perfect is definitely out of my league. I'm too stubborn for that. And, in case you haven't noticed, I've got a bit of a temper."

Honey sighed dramatically. "Trixie warned me about this."

Instantly concerned, he asked, "Warned you? About what? Me?"

She nodded gravely. "She told me that older brothers are terrible teases. She said once you got settled in, it probably wouldn't take any time at all before you started teasing me like Brian and Mart tease her."

"What did you say?"

She smiled shyly. "I told her I hoped you would."

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

Summer of Change

Part VI

By Elizabeth Goode

The heat was intense. A dull haze seemed to hang in the air, as though the saturation of humidity was more than the air itself could bear. Trixie dashed sweat from her forehead as she and Honey headed for the lake on the Wheeler land. It was too hot for riding bicycles, even to Mr. Lytell's store for cold pop or ice cream. It was too hot for riding horses – the very idea of wearing jeans instead of shorts was unthinkable. As a matter of fact, the only thing this terrible weather was good for was swimming. Next to her, Honey looked as miserable as she felt. Her long hair had been pulled up to keep it off of her neck, but it still looked damp with sweat. School would be starting up soon, and Trixie desperately hoped that the weather would cool down a bit before it was time to wear school clothes and sit in the stuffy classrooms at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School.

"Mart was giving me a hard time about my 'delicate female constitution' this morning because I was complaining about the heat. He said that it was hot like this at the camp, and he did just fine."

Honey shook her head. "Don't pay him a bit of mind. At about 1:00 this afternoon, I witnessed Mart and Jim both practically hugging the icebox in the kitchen. Cook was actually laughing at them both. They'd tried to go riding and had to give up."

"Jim? The master woodsman himself? Whining about the heat?"

Honey shrugged. "He said he'd had his fill of being hot, at least for this summer. He said he was already over quota."

"That makes sense. It's not like the old mansion had fans or air conditioning, and then he was sleeping in the woods and working on the Smith farm." She wrinkled her nose. "Moms gave me all sorts of warnings about the heat. Apparently, there have been several cases of heatstroke and heat exhaustion this week. She told us we weren't to do any strenuous activity outside, and she even forbade Dad to mow the lawn."

"Regan sent Mart and Jim right back to the house with a similar warning. Celia said the temperature on the garden shed was reading 102 degrees."

Honey grimaced, and pulled her t-shirt over her head as they approached the dock of the lake, kicking off her shoes. Her yellow swimsuit was a rather incongruously bright spot in the hazy air. "Mart and Jim went to your house to pick up Brian. Do you think he'll come with them?"

Trixie heard the purposely casual note in her friend's voice, which reminded her distinctly of the way her oldest brother had sounded when he had asked her, offhandedly of course, what kinds of things Honey enjoyed doing. She smiled. "I think he will. He was going on and on last night about how much fun it was going to be to have Jim around. He's bound and determined to get your brother onto that debate team."

Following Honey across the dock, Trixie left her own shorts, t-shirt, and shoes in a pile next to her friend's. Her swimsuit wasn't new like Honey's but she liked it. It was comfortable – no zippers or other impractical fasteners – and the color matched her eyes. Although Trixie didn't think about her appearance as much as Honey did, she was aware that blue was a good color for her.

She blushed under her heat-reddened cheeks, remembering the blue sundress she had worn a few days ago at the picnic. After all of the excitement had died down with the badminton net and the missing shoe and rambunctious dogs, Trixie had been feeling particularly disheveled and messy – there was a grass stain on her dress, dirt on her arm and her shoes had been abandoned due to doggy slobber. She had gone into the kitchen to bring out some extra napkins and plastic silverware for the guests at Moms' request, and Jim had come with her to help. Once in the kitchen, Jim had reached up to brush a stray piece of grass out of her hair. "You look nice, Trix. Blue's your color." The casual compliment had caused her heart to race, and she was sure that if she looked at him, she'd turn bright red. Instead, she had made some kind of joke about Jim needing to get his vision checked and hurried back outside.

The lake looked so cool and inviting that the girls didn't bother with entering slowly, instead jumping right off the end of the dock. When they surfaced, they let out a collective sigh of relief. The lake water had not succumbed to the miserable heat, and it was just as cool and refreshing as ever.

Continuing their conversation from before they had entered the water, Honey said, "I'm glad Brian and Mart seem to get getting along with Jim. You can't tell him I told you this, or he'd be terribly embarrassed, but Jim was pretty nervous about meeting them."

Surprised, Trixie treaded water and answered, "Really? I told him all about them and he seemed okay – excited to meet them, even."

"He was worried that … well, he said he hadn't really had any friends at all for so long that he wasn't sure he'd remember how."

Once again, Trixie felt the blood-boiling sensation that started in her gut and worked its way out to her extremities she felt every time she thought of Jonesy and the different ways, all of which were awful, he had affected Jim. "Yeah, I guess he probably didn't get to socialize all that much, even in school. That horrible stepfather of his probably didn't allow it."

Honey opened her mouth to reply, but stopped at the sound of approaching voices. The boys were almost here, and it wouldn't do to be caught talking about them.

Mart was the first one to hit the water. He cannonballed into the lake, sending the majority of his splash onto his sister. Trixie waited for him to surface and ducked him. Brian and Jim still stood on the dock, waiting for the ruckus in the water to subside before getting in. Brian was grinning, but a worried expression was settling across Jim's features. Trixie and Mart were still squabbling happily, ducking each other and splashing furiously.

Mart came up for air and shouted, "Brian, Jim! She's trying to drown me! Get in here and show some solidarity, men!"

Looking up at Brian and her new brother standing on the dock, Honey immediately recognized and understood the worry apparent in Jim's face. He was proud to a fault and hated being pitied more than anything else – well, more than anything besides telling a lie. There were a few remnants of his stepfather's abuse that were visible – a couple of faint scars on his right shoulder blade and a freshly healed cut that was still red and slightly puffy. Honey and Trixie already knew and he wasn't self conscious about it in front of them – but Brian and Mart were different. The last thing he wanted to deal with was making explanations like that while he was trying his hardest to come across to them as someone they would want to be friends with. Honey was, for a moment, quite frozen. She wanted to do something to help her brother, put his mind at ease, but couldn't think of anything that wouldn't call attention to the last thing he would want to have attention called to.

Suddenly, Trixie was there. She was laughing as she grabbed hold of Jim's ankle and yanked him into the lake with his t-shirt and flip-flops still on. Catching Honey's eye for the briefest of moments, Trixie winked, barely perceptively. Brian still stood on the dock, and Honey could practically see the wheels turning in his brain as he assessed the situation. He met Honey's eyes and kicked off his sandals, raising one eyebrow in … invitation? Honey understood and launched herself out of the lake and onto the dock, shoving Brian into the water, t-shirt and all. Giggling, she leaped in after him.

One of Jim's flip-flops floated past, and Trixie grabbed it, holding it in front of her as though it were a weapon. When Mart approached, trying to duck her again, she aimed the flip-flop at him and deadpanned, "One more move, mister. Don't make me use this!"

It wasn't Mart she needed to look out for, though. As she treaded water backwards to get away from Mart, she bumped into something solid.

"Going somewhere?"

She turned around and found her face pressed against wet cotton. Blushing at the close contact, she backed up and held out the shoe cautiously. "You're going to duck me or splash me when I least expect it, aren't you?"

Jim feigned innocence. "Of course not. Why would I do a thing like that?"

"Because I pulled you right off the dock into the lake and now one of your shoes is floating around heaven knows where. And because now that you're hanging around with the Brothers Belden, they've probably already corrupted you."

At that moment, the Brothers Belden were splashing and laughing with Honey, who was easily outswimming Brian to avoid retribution for pulling him into the lake with his shirt still on.

While the others were distracted, Jim leaned close and said quietly, "Thanks, Trixie."

She smiled. "I'm available to yank you into the lake fully dressed any time you like."

"You know what I meant. And I mean it – thanks."

"You know, for all they appear to be making like goons at the moment, Brian and Mart are pretty good guys. They're really excited to have someone to hang out with who lives nearby. Until the Wheelers bought the Manor House, us Beldens only had each other to entertain ourselves, unless we could talk Moms or Dad into driving us into town to see our friends from school. And as much as we like each other, it got pretty boring."

Jim gave her an appraising look. "What are you getting at, Trix?"

"I'm getting at telling you not to be worried about impressing them or anything. They're already impressed with you. I … may have written them a few letters about our adventures this summer, so by the time they got back from camp, they pretty much already felt like they knew you and Honey both."

"What kind of things did you mention?"

"Hmm – I wrote about how Honey can swim better than anyone I've ever seen, and I wrote about the Water Witch and the scary dog - "

" – which I ended up shooting! They probably think I'm some crazed hillbilly with a shotgun!"

She shook her head, her tone of voice indicating that there was no room for argument. "You had to. It was attacking Honey. Rabid or not, it still would have hurt her. You did the right thing."

"But I--"

" – no buts. And they don't think you're a hillbilly because you're not a hillbilly!"

In that moment, her mind's eye imposed upon her a mental image that she found so hilarious, she couldn't stop the giggle from erupting forth. In her head, she pictured Jim wearing overalls with one shoulder strap fastened diagonally, chewing on a piece of hay, barefoot with a fishing pole. The giggling got worse, not better.

"What?" Jim was staring at her, probably wondering why she'd suddenly lost her mind. Even embarrassment didn't stop her. She was laughing so hard, she feared she might sink like a stone.

Through her giggles, she managed to stammer, "The word 'hillbilly' – it – it made me picture you as – as --"

He grinned. "A hillbilly?"

"Stop saying that word! You're making it worse!"

She managed to still the laughter and then chanced making eye contact. "You don't … own overalls, do you?"

"Nope. Not since I was a little kid. Regular old jeans are sufficient." He gave her a quizzical look. "Why do you ask?"

Shaking her head, she laughed again. "Let's just say it's not a good look for you."

The moment was interrupted by Honey, swimming toward them at top speed. At the last second, she popped her head up to shout, "Sorry!" to Trixie and Jim, and then sped away. In her wake, Brian and Mart splashed and thundered about in the water.

"You there! Consorting with mine enemy!" Mart pointed accusingly at Jim. "Yon maiden hath tried to drown me, and ye do naught!"

Trixie placed herself firmly behind Jim, sticking her tongue out at Mart. "Yon maiden doth tire of your – your …" She stopped, unable to find the right word to carry on the game.

" … knavely ways." Jim finished for her, a broad grin flashing as he joined in the fun. "The lady hath regaled me with tales of your dastardly deeds."

Brian laughed out loud, smiling appreciatively at Jim. "Looks like you've got some competition, Mart! You'd best chew on some dictionaries and brush up on your Elizabethan phrases." Turning to Jim, he added, "How do you feel about joining the academic team as well as the debate team?"

Trixie splashed at her oldest brother. "Gleeps, Brian. How about Science Bowl, Chess Club, and the Young Astronomers Club while you're at it! Not everyone's as much of an overachiever as you are."

But apparently Jim was, because his green eyes were sparkling with excitement. "Really? There's a Young Astronomers Club? _And_ a Science Bowl? My high school in Albany had an Academic Bowl, but no astronomers and science. And Chess Club doesn't sound so bad, either. My dad taught me to play when I was a kid, but I haven't tried for a while."

At the mention of chess, Mart lit up, and Trixie groaned to Honey, "You do realize we'll never see either of them again, right? Mart _loves_ chess. He calls it --"

"Ah, chess! The thinking man's game! James, my good man, if a chess match is what you desire, may I humbly assert my willingness to oblige!" Mart sent his sister a withering glare. "Trixie has to be bribed to play a game with me, and she more often than not gets distracted and goes for a sandwich or a glass of water and conveniently forgets to come back."

"What about me? You never ask me to play, not anymore," Brian asked. "What gives?"

When Mart didn't answer, Trixie crowed triumphantly, "You beat him, that's what gives. The last time you played him, you won, and he can't stand it."

Looking righteously indignant, Mart huffed, "He _cheated_."

Brian rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling good-naturedly. "Yes. I cheated terribly by using my pieces to capture his king. Then I committed the terrible crime of uttering the word, 'checkmate.' As you can see, I'm clearly a terrible person."

The banter went on between the five friends, each of them finding more common ground than they ever expected. Trixie even found that her brothers were much nicer and more interesting than she'd given them credit for when she looked at them through Honey and Jim's eyes. The tired but much refreshed group started to head for the dock to dry out a bit before heading back to change into dry clothes. As she headed for the edge of the lake, Trixie saw a canine shape swimming toward her. It was the friendly collie of questionable ownership that hat run off with her shoe at the cookout earlier in the week. In its mouth, was Jim's sandal.

"Hey! You! Drop the sandal!" She swam toward the collie, who seemed to sense that the game was on, yet again. The dog climbed out of the water and stood on the edge of the lake, practically grinning through its grip on the flip-flop. Out of nowhere, Reddy appeared. The Belden setter was practically shivering with excitement to see his friend from days before, and his family all in one place. He chased the collie excitedly, and ended up jumping off the dock. Unfortunately, Honey, Brian, and Jim were nearing the dock to exit the lake and experienced a very near miss with the underside of the excited setter. Moments later, Reddy surfaced and swam happily next to Brian.

"Home, Reddy! Home!" Brian commanded, to no avail.

Meanwhile, the friendly collie had leaped back into the lake, still holding Jim's shoe in its mouth. Jim made an attempt to swim after it and free the shoe, but Friendly the Collie of Questionable Ownership clearly thought it, along with everything else, was a game.

Exiting the lake, the five friends attempted to dry themselves off and catch up to the shoe stealing dog, but unfortunately, the collie was now aided by Reddy, his accomplice. After about five minutes, they were all as hot and sweaty as though they had never spent time in the water. After about seven minutes, Jim called it quits, surrendering the shoe to the dog.

Honey was sitting under a tree, fanning herself with a paper plate from the picnic basket. Brian had settled next to her and was removing wrapped sandwiches. Mart gave up the chase and threw himself on the grass nearest the picnic basket, and Trixie stood trying to catch her breath after the wild chase. Jim made his way over toward her, and together they walked slowly toward the picnic that was getting underway.

Red-faced and sweating, Trixie ran a hand through her sandy curls and pushed them back from her forehead. "Gleeps, it's hot out here. Sorry about your shoe. You rescued mine at the cookout. I thought I'd try to return the favor."

Wiping sweat from his own forehead, he shook his head. "You know what? It was a rubber flip-flop. Seeing how I was sleeping on a mattress full of money for half the summer and didn't realize it, I'm going to go into town with Miss Trask sometime this week and just buy another pair. It's too hot to be frugal right now."

She nodded. "Agreed."

Not three feet away from them, the collie sat down on the grass, shoe nearly unrecognizable, but still firmly held in its mouth. He gave them a doggy smile and rolled over, wiggling his legs in the air.

"We should figure out who owns that animal. He's actually a good looking collie. He might be registered or something." Jim held out a hand to entice the dog to come closer. "Keep the shoe, boy. It's all yours."

The collie melted into his hand, licking enthusiastically and then turning his head so that his ears and neck were both getting scratched. Scooting closer, Jim felt for a collar. There was a groove in the fur as though a collar used to be there, but there was no ID of any kind on the dog.

"Well, he must have belonged to someone. He's too sweet to be a stray." Trixie scratched his head. "I hate to think of someone missing him as much as we'd miss Reddy." She scratched the collie's proffered belly. "Aren't you a good boy? A good mystery dog. A mystery dog who loves shoes. Hmm."

The dog followed them over to the picnic and greedily disposed of several pieces of lunchmeat that were offered.

Honey asked, "Are we going to keep him?"

"We should put up fliers or something," Mart suggested. "If Reddy went missing, I'd want them to do the same."

Trixie mused aloud, "We can do that, but we should definitely look at all of the Classifieds in the paper. Maybe someone has reported him lost. I'll start there. If we don't find anything there, maybe we could take him into town and walk him to show him off. See if anyone recognizes him."

Honey looked at her new best friend, a glimmer of excitement in her hazel eyes. "We've got a mystery to solve!"

Brian and Mart exchanged a glance and collectively groaned. Mart explained, "Honey, Jim – you don't know what you've unleashed. Trixie loves a mystery more than anything. Her bookshelves are overflowing with Lucy Radcliffe mysteries, and old Sherlock Holmes. Her favorite board game is Clue. Once she starts, she's unstoppable."

A grimace crossed Brian's face. "Remember when she was ten and found the missing silver spoon from Grandma's silver set that Aunt Alicia had insisted for years that Moms had taken just to get her goat?"

Mart nodded. "It was behind the stove, which hadn't been moved since the Great Depression, and to get back there, she made us help her move it. We didn't know there was an electrical outlet back there, and we pulled the wires out. The whole kitchen needed to be rewired."

Trixie smiled at the memory. "I found the spoon. Moms' name was cleared."

Trixie's almost-twin shook a warning finger at Honey and Jim. "Consider yourselves warned, my friends. Consider yourselves warned."

"Lucy Radcliffe," Jim mused. "Honey seems to have an entire bookshelf devoted to this Lucy Radcliffe person as well. Who is this mystery lady?"

"Some teenage girl who goes around solving mysteries and getting her family and friends into trouble." Mart shrugged. "I'm more of a Cosmo McNaught man myself. Would you happen to be a fan?"

"I'm willing to give them a try. Say, I think I saw several of those in Honey's book collection as well. Right, sis?"

Blushing furiously, Honey nodded. "I've got a few."

"More than a few. I think I saw at least twenty, right? On the shelf under the Lucy Radcliffe collection."

Still blushing, Honey looked to Trixie for help. "I … I used to read them in boarding school. He had adventures and I was so bored! I used to pretend I was his loyal sidekick. He was tall, dark, and handsome, and I was so bored with all the Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights stuff all the other girls were reading! Not that those aren't good books too …" She trailed off as she realized that "tall, dark, and handsome" also described Brian Belden to a tee. Hoping she hadn't been caught out, she changed the subject abruptly, "Could someone pass the relish?"


	7. Chapter 7

Summer of Change

Part VII

By Elizabeth Goode

* * *

Jim had just finished with helping Regan exercise some of the horses. Mr. Wheeler was on a business trip, and Honey had gone into town with Miss Trask for some last minute school shopping. Brian and Mart Belden had gone with their parents to visit friends of the family who had not seen them since before they had gone to be camp counselors for the summer, and last he had heard, Trixie was babysitting Bobby while the rest of her family was out of town for the afternoon. Jim was planning to take advantage of the time alone to do some academic preparation for the beginning of school. Exiting the stables, he headed toward the house to take a shower. School was starting in a week, and he planned to crack open the Chemistry II textbook to see how much he could remember from his Chemistry I class he'd taken in Albany. It had only been May when he'd had Chem I, but it felt like a lifetime ago. He frowned, trying to remember the name of his former lab partner – a serious girl with glasses and an ambitious streak a mile wide. He hated it that her name had disappeared from his mind as if she'd never existed. Shelley? Sadie? It was something like that ... whatshername had been a really good lab partner, and he couldn't even remember her name. He remembered thinking several times that given the opportunity, she'd be someone who would cure something major or discover a new element. Giving up on remembering the name of his former lab partner, he thought about what Brian had mentioned the day before – that having a good lab partner was pivotal to do well in the class and retain the knowledge, and Brian was deadly serious about retaining the knowledge. He needed chemistry for college and then for medical school and couldn't afford to mess around with a lab partner who needed carrying. Jim had been floored when, after explaining all of that, Brian asked Jim to be his lab partner. He felt honored and not a little bit pressured to be up to the task, but he had always enjoyed a certain degree of academic pressure and competition.

His thoughts were interrupted by a small whirlwind of blond hair and dirty denim, followed closely by the Belden family's unruly red setter. He frowned. Bobby Belden was pretty young to be running all the way to the Manor House by himself. Wasn't Trixie supposed to be babysitting? He stopped the youngster's whirlwind progress by getting a firm grasp on the strap of his overalls, as he'd seen Trixie do so many times. "Where's the fire, kiddo?"

"Hey! Hey, Jim! I need some – some holp. Trixie's stuck! I tried to holp her, but she said I couldn't move, but I told her she was stuck and I was gonna get a grownup. You're almost a grownup, aren't you Jim? Like Brian?"

A feeling of cold fear settled in Jim's stomach. He quickly stuck his head back into the stable to see if Regan was still around, but the groom was gone. He was pretty sure that there would be someone up at the house, but in the time it took him to look for someone, it could be too late ... _God, no. Don't think that way, Frayne._ Aloud, he managed, "Bobby, can you take me to Trixie? Where is she? Is she all right?" _Of course she's not all right – if she was all right, her six-year-old brother wouldn't have run all the way up here by himself to find a grownup for help!_ He forced his panicky internal monologue to quiet itself.

The little boy nodded, leading the way with Jim following. "She took me 'splorin'. We – we took lunch to the Mansion where Trixie and Honey founded you. I wanted to see the shower you put outside an' Trixie said it didn't get all burned up like everything else."

The Mansion. He hadn't been back there since the fire. At first, it was the idea of Uncle James' house being gone that bothered him, and then, the nightmares about Jonesy finding him there had made going back to look at the ruins too difficult for him to manage just yet. However, knowing the destination made one thing easier. He picked Bobby up and gave him a piggy-back ride. He could move faster without having to wait for the small child to keep up. He ran faster than he'd ever run before, too busy running even to ask Bobby any more questions about the nature of the emergency.

He could smell the smoke before he could see the ruins. The smell choked in his throat, burned his eyes, and he remembered the night of the fire, of seeing Trixie's face, pale in the moonlight, dragging things out of the house. She'd taken risks to help him, and there wasn't any way he would let his own insecurities get in the way of helping her now.

The sight of the charred remains of the mansion made him wince – despite the fact that it had been run-down at best when he had been hiding out there, he had been happy. Out from under Jonesy's thumb, and free to do what he wanted for the first time in a long while. It was in that run-down old house that he'd met Trixie and Honey and remembered what it was like to have friends. Some of his best memories were in that old house, and now it was gone – gone because of Jonesy's stupid cigar, the fire chief had told him. One more thing Jonesy had managed to take away from him.

He set Bobby down. So far, he couldn't see any sign of Trixie anywhere. "Trixie! Trixie, where are you!" He shouted. There was no reply, and he felt sick. Bobbly Belden looked up at him with his big, blue eyes, so much like his sister's … _Don't panic. Don't panic in front of the kid. Trixie didn't panic when Bobby got bitten by the snake, or when that stupid yellow dog threatened her and Honey at the lake …. _Out loud, he managed, "Show me where she is, Bobby."

The small boy grabbed Jim's hand and pulled him along to the area of what used to be the part of the mansion nearest the summer house. A charred porch rail still stood beside a pile of rubble.

"Trixie?" He called out. "Trix, are you hurt?"

From somewhere inside the pile of rubble, he heard a faint voice. "Jim? Is that you?"

"It's me, Trix. What happened? Are you hurt?"

Her voice was oddly calm. "I'm not hurt, not really … there's a snake, Jim. A copperhead. I can't see it now, but – but it's here somewhere."

"Can you climb out?" He regretted those words the minute they passed his lips, but couldn't take them back.

She snapped testily, "If I could climb out, don't you think I would have?"

"Then I'll climb down."

"But the snake – I don't know where it is, but it can't have gone far!"

He sighed, willing his brain to come up with something brilliant to solve the dilemma. It didn't work.

"What were you doing climbing on this burned out mess anyway?"

His question was answered by a sudden and insistent mewing from somewhere inside the ruin. A gray tabby cat began to wind restlessly around his ankles. If a cat could be said to have a worried expression, this one certainly did. Her purr was so loud and desperate that it pierced his heart. He bent to stroke her fur, and she aggressively rammed her head into his hand.

"Kittens. She's got kittens in that unstable wreck, and you heard them and tried to save them, didn't you?"

"Yes," came the faint reply. "I took Bobby to see the shower you made because he wants one and felt left out 'cause he didn't get to meet you right away like Honey and I did, and I felt kind of badly for ignoring him for half the summer, so we took a walk up here, and - and I didn't think you'd want to come and everyone else was away, so we just ...."

"It's okay, Trix. I'm not mad that you came up here or anything. We just need to get you out of there."

"Me AND the kittens."

"You first, THEN the kittens."

He instructed Bobby to watch over the distressed tabby, and to put any rescued kittens Jim might pass to him into the picnic basket just to keep them all together. Determinedly, he started climbing the charred pile of boards that had once been part of the kitchen area.

"Be careful, Jim! I fell through. It's not stable and you're heavier than me."

There was an edge of fear in her voice he had never heard there before. Of course it had to be a copperhead. She'd had enough worry when Bobby had been bitten, no wonder she was scared. Heck, he was pretty scared himself. His Aunt Nell had died from a copperhead bite not far from where he was standing right now. Not that he could blame the snake for wanting to set up a home in a ruin where no one lived to bother him, with a fresh supply of tiny kittens to eat. He shuddered.

"Do you see the kittens, Trix?"

"I have two of them, but there are at least three more … oh!" She shrieked, a very un-Trixie-like sound. "The snake, I see it!"

Jim could see it too. He had reached the area where Trixie had fallen through the rubble into what used to be the stairwell into the cellar. The copperhead was coiled in a corner, and Trixie was pressed against the other side of the small chasm. She'd fallen in so far that there really wasn't any way she could have climbed out. Jim wasn't sure he'd be able to from inside where she was either. Which meant that he needed a plan to get her out.

"Don't move. I'll figure something out. Just don't make that snake any madder than he already is."

In the meager beam of sunshine that illuminated Trixie's plight, he could see that she was pale with fear and that there were tear tracks on her cheeks. She'd probably waited until Bobby had gone and then let herself cry – he certainly didn't think any less of her for it. He wasn't sure how well he'd be doing if he were the one trapped in a hole with a venomous snake.

"Trix? I'm going to use some of these beams as a kind of ramp, so you can get some footholds on your way up, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

He found a sizable piece of plank about as long as a baseball bat and passed it down to her. "If that snake tries anything, clobber it, got it?"

"Got it."

She stood down there, board held out like a bat in front of her, a tiny gray kitten on her shoulder and another one peeking out from the neckband of her t-shirt. Their eyes were barely open, and every now and then, one or both would let out a loud mew as if to inform the universe that life just wasn't fair. It was slow, hot work. Moving too quickly could agitate the snake and cause it to bite Trixie, so he concentrated on methodically placing each plank as far away from the coiled snake as possible. Just as he was about to move on to the next phase in his plan, he heard an indignant yelp from down below.

"What's wrong?"

Trixie was pointing into the corner, where a black kitten had unwittingly followed the cries of her siblings into terrible danger. The kitten was very, very close to the copperhead, and he involuntarily closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't want to see that kitten become snake food, and he certainly didn't want _Trixie_ to have to see that kitten become snake food.

Without even dislodging the shoulder kitten, Trixie used the board he had passed down to her to push the snake back, keeping its head away from the kitten, and used her other hand to snatch the tiny animal away from what would certainly have been its doom. The snake, obviously unhappy at the rough treatment, lurched forward, narrowly missing Trixie's leg as she retreated back to her corner of the pit.

Shakily, she called up, "Hurry, Jim! I – I think I made it mad."

He didn't need to be asked twice. The makeshift ramp was at an impossible angle, and he knew she wouldn't be able to climb up unaided. He took off his belt and cast it down to her. "Grab on, and walk up the ramp!" But, she couldn't reach the end. Jim looked around for some kind of rope, anything to extend the range, but everything was charred wood and nothing useful.

"Shoelaces!" Came the excited cry from below. "Take out your shoelaces and push it through the last hole on your belt! That should make it long enough!"

He wasted no time. In under a minute, he had cast down the makeshift rope and Trixie was making her way up the ramp while Jim pulled. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen a sight so welcome as her dirty face and dusty hair as she emerged. She had tucked her shirt into the waistband of her jeans, and the black kitten had joined her gray sister, peeping out of the neckband of Trixie's shirt. The other gray kitten bravely dug his claws into her shoulder to anchor himself. As soon as she was clear from the hole, Jim couldn't stop himself from pulling her close in a tight hug. Only an indignant mew from one of the kittens still in her shirt caused him to loosen his grip. They made their way down the pile of rubble to where Bobby still stood obediently. The mother cat had managed to scare up the rest of the kittens, and they placed all five kittens and the mother cat in the large picnic basket. The mother cat immediately flopped onto her side and began to feed her babies. Free from the rush of adrenaline that had kept them both brave, Trixie and Jim sank onto the ground beside the basket. Bobby ran to his sister and threw his chubby little arms around her neck.

"Trixie! I was really scared, an' I know you told me not to move, but I ran to the Manor House for a grownup, but all I founded was Jim. He's close enough, right? Like Brian?"

Jim ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "You did fine, Bobby. You remembered the way from here to the Manor House all by yourself."

Trixie spoke up, "You were very brave, Bobby. I only told you not to move because I was afraid you might fall through with me. You did the right thing."

Still too shaken to get up and go home immediately, they stayed put for awhile. Trixie put Bobby in charge of the kittens and their mother, and soon the little boy devoted all of his attention to the fluffy little cats, giving Trixie and Jim a moment to catch their breath.

He studied her face, which was regaining its color now that the danger had passed. "Are you sure you're okay? Nothing twisted or broken, right?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. Honestly, I was just scared. I feel like kind of a sissy to be honest."

"Don't. You were a lot braver down there than you give yourself credit for. You just had a bad experience with a copperhead not so long ago, you were trapped, and there were furry little lives at stake as well as your own."

She smiled ruefully, "Thanks."

They sat in silence for a moment, looking around at the ruins.

Trixie spoke first. "You know, this is the first time I've been back here since the fire and everything. Bobby's been pestering me since before we even went looking for you near Autoville to take him 'splorin' up here. Then, when he found out about the outdoor shower, well – he was insistent. And I did feel badly about saying no to him over and over again, just because I was kind of creeped out coming up here after everything."

"What made you change your mind?" Jim asked quietly.

"I couldn't stand feeling like I _couldn't_ if that makes any kind of sense. I've never been scared in the woods or outside, and I wasn't scared at Ten Acres before the fire. I needed to come up here to prove something to myself. Bobby wanting to see the outdoor shower was just the reason I needed. So, we walked up here and I showed him the shower, and then we heard the mewing. The gray mama cat was scared – she kept rubbing up against our legs and making that weird distress kitten-call they do when they can't find their babies. I saw the little black one up on the top of the pile, and went after it, then the rest is history. I fell through into the cellar stairwell and became an unwelcome houseguest to a copperhead. After Bobby took off for help I just kept getting more scared, and I started thinking about your Aunt Nell, dying of a copperhead bite … my imagination ran off with me and I kind of started crying. Hence, I feel like a sissy."

He shook his head firmly. "You're the least sissy-like girl I've ever met. Heck, Trixie! You risked getting bitten to save that little black cat. That's pretty brave, if you ask me! Especially considering what happened earlier this summer.

"Hey! Trixie, Jim! I think the mama cat is hungry. She feels all skinny." Bobby was lying on the ground, the gray cat searching his pockets for food.

Trixie reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out half a crushed candy bar and frowned. "We can't give a cat chocolate, but this is all I've got on me. We can bring her and the kittens down to the barn with us and give her some lunchmeat or something."

Jim's eyes were riveted on the crushed candy bar. He clearly remembered being so hungry he was starting to feel light headed and sick, and then Trixie was there, offering her melted, mashed-up candy bar to tide him over until they could go home and bring back a feast. That simple, offhand gesture on her part had meant so much more to him than she could ever know.

She smiled at him. "You hungry? Here, you eat it. All it's going to do in my pocket is get forgotten and then get me in trouble when I forget to take it out of my pocket before Moms does the laundry."

At this, he laughed and accepted the candy bar, eating it all in one bite.

"It sounds funny, sure, but you've never had to be the one to have to re-wash everything after something is left in the wash. One time, Moms had slipped a tube of lipstick into her pocket to go somewhere, and forgot to remove it. At least that wasn't my fault, but Brian and Mart and Dad had to wear pink underwear and socks for a few days until Moms bleached everything."

The idea of the Belden men spending a few days with pink undergarments made him laugh again. Strange … even yesterday, he wouldn't have been able to say he'd be laughing on the site of Ten Acres near the burned down ruin. Now, it seemed perfectly natural.

"Say, Trix. Let's get these cats to the barn and fed. You can change clothes – you're covered in char dust – and after that, I'll make Bobby his outdoor shower. How does that sound?"

She let him pull her to her feet. "Sounds good. When do you think Honey will be back?"

"Late afternoon, around four-thirty, I think."

"Moms and Dad and Brian and Mart will be back around then as well. We should make a picnic and take it up to Ten Acres. Brian and Mart haven't heard about all of our adventures this summer, and I think they'd like to."

He thought for a moment, recalling his earlier apprehension about visiting Ten Acres, and found that he no longer felt strange about it. If he didn't know better, he'd think that Trixie and her accident had scared his fear right out of him. He chuckled inwardly. If that wasn't something Honey would say, then he didn't know what was.

"That sounds like a good plan. I think I'd like to give them the walk-through tour. 'To your left, you'll see the summer house, which nearly concussed your sister and caused her to be nearly mauled by a game hen. To your right, is the pile of rubble that was once the kitchen – watch out, a copperhead lives in there – straight in front of you is the famous outdoor shower, and just this way is the path where Shootin' Hillbilly Jim shot a stray dog that probably wasn't rabid but was definitely going to take a bite out of his future sister.' How does that sound, Trix?"

She started giggling when he said, 'Shootin' Hillbilly Jim' and wasn't able to stop completely until they were nearly back to Crabapple Farm.


	8. Chapter 8

Summer of Change

Part VIII

By Elizabeth Goode

* * *

The Saturday before classes started at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High, Honey and Jim were over at Crabapple Farm, pumping the Beldens for information about Sleepyside, their classmates, teachers, and subjects. Honey's previous schools had been all-girls boarding schools, and this would be the first time she had classes with boys in them. She was obviously nervous, her voice pitching higher as she asked, wide-eyed, "Do we get to eat lunch together? All at the same time?"

For his part, Jim was outwardly confident, but inwardly a mess. He had convinced himself that every single student in his class was going to know uncomfortable amounts of detail about him. He knew how small-town gossip worked, knew how many people shopped at Mr. Lytell's store, and how much the old man liked to gossip. He was envisioning half of the student body trying to be his best friend because they had read about his inheritance in the Sleepyside Sun, and half of them gazing at him pityingly as the poor orphan adopted by the wealthy Wheelers. Both options made him nauseous. He listened as Trixie filled Honey in on some of the other students.

"Well, let's see … Diana Lynch and I used to be pretty good friends. She's been really standoffish since her Dad made a ton of money, though. I wonder if maybe she never did like me and once she had money she didn't have to be friends with messy, nosy, old Trixie Belden anymore."

"Trixie! That is no way to talk about yourself, or about poor Diana Lynch!" Mrs. Belden stood in the doorway, a tray of delicious smelling cobbler in her hands. She set the tray down and patted Trixie's unruly mop of curls. "I happen to know that I raise interesting children that others should only hope to be friends with. And I also happen to know that the Lynch twins in Bobby's class are having some problems as well. You shouldn't judge. Just be friendly with Diana when you go back to school, and she'll come around."

Her cheeks flushing red beneath her summer tan, Trixie mumbled, "Thanks, Moms. I'll try."

Privately, Jim thought that any other student who couldn't see how wonderful Trixie Belden was, no matter how messy or nosy she got, wasn't worth the time of day, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. No sense embarrassing her further, or himself.

The cobbler made its way around the table, and it was now his turn. Worry still caused his stomach to churn, and he was forced to take a small portion so as not to appear rude, and push it around the plate with his fork.

The Wheelers had been great, they really had. He really liked Mr. Wheeler, but he always got the impression that his adoptive father was disappointed that he hadn't been able to call him anything other than Mr. Wheeler. Mrs. Wheeler was warm and caring, if a bit shy around her new son. He could see how she and Honey had gotten off on the wrong foot together – neither one of them was assertive enough to insist on a conversation. Madeleine Wheeler had asked him to call her Mother, as Honey did, and for some reason, this was much easier for him than calling Mr. Wheeler anything other than Mr. Wheeler. Honey and her mother reminded him somewhat of his own mother – they were quiet like she had been, but had a good sense of humor if you were patient enough to wait for it.

"Jim? Are you feeling all right?" Mrs. Belden placed a cool, gentle hand on his forehead from behind, as deftly and as naturally as if he had been Brian or Mart. "You've barely touched your cobbler, and your face is looking a bit pale."

He flashed her a rueful smile. "The cobbler is great, Mrs. Belden. I'm just a little bit … ah, nervous about school starting so soon, that's all." There. It was out there, and he could deal with the embarrassment of saying it out loud, at least in the present company.

Brian let out a relieved sigh. "Me too. I'm really worked up about the debate team call out meeting. I mean, I've talked it up like crazy to you, but what if you make the cut and I don't? Or neither of us do?"

"You seem awfully sure I'm going to make it at all," Jim said, still tapping at his cobbler with his fork. "I'm not so sure. You at least know the other students already."

"That may not work to my advantage. At least two of the guys on the team gave me a hard time last year because I did better as a sophomore in Chem I than they did as juniors. Mark Nelson and Todd Maurer weren't terribly happy when Mr. Reynolds asked me to give them a tutorial in stoichiometry. I'm not sure how glad they'll be to see me at the call out."

At the word, "stoichiometry", Jim winced. "It took me the better half of a school year, but sheer will has made me a bit of an expert in stoichiometry. Not some of my fondest memories – I think I chewed my pencil so much I may be part woodchuck by now."

Brian and Mart laughed, but Trixie and Honey stared at them blankly.

"What on earth is stoichiometry? It sounds worse than algebra or trigonometry! And I haven't had any trig yet at all!" Trixie made a face, repeating the word as though it tasted bad in her mouth. "_Stoichiometry_."

Mart piped in, "It is the balancing of chemical equations in a mathematical fashion."

"That's right. And when you get to be a big, bad junior, you'll get to do it too!" Brian teased her affectionately.

Jim leaned over and whispered, "It sounds worse because it _is_ worse, Trix. I hated it until it finally clicked in my head, and then I wondered why I'd thought it was so hard. Unlike geometry. Man, did I ever study my brains out for that class, only to find out that once you get to trig, you have to remember it and use it regularly. Color me surprised."

Always the serious student, Brian added, "You know, there are some studies coming out that propose that certain types of learners are more likely to be good at geometry or algebra. That people for whom one comes easily might not pick up the other without some serious determination."

Mrs. Belden interjected, "That was true for me, actually. I had a terrible time learning algebra when I was in school, and then I took geometry and it came really easily to me. I used to help other students with their geometry."

"You're an artist. Some of the studies say that artists are more left-brained and that geometrical understanding falls under left-brained resources." Brian paused. "But I was pretty good at both geometry and algebra. I wonder how that's accounted for in the study?"

Giving Brian a friendly clap on the shoulder, Jim teased his friend good-naturedly, "Maybe you're just blessed with an ambidextrous brain!"

* * *

After the cobbler was eaten, Mart having had the lion's share, the plan was to take the horses out for a ride. Jim and Brian went ahead over to the Manor House to get started on saddling the horses, while Trixie, Honey, and Mart stayed behind to help Moms with clearing the table and doing the dishes.

As they left the driveway of Crabapple Farm and headed up the hill to the Manor House, Jim tried to work up the courage to ask Brian a few more questions pertaining to the starting of school. There were so many things he was worried about that he felt as though he was about to burst, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. His internal monologue raced, "_How much do the town kids know about me? Are they going to act like I'm some poor victim? Do they know how much I inherited? Are they going to want to be my friend because of that instead of because they actually like me? What if I say something weird on the first day and make a fool out of myself? What about P.E. class? Do we have to change in a locker room full of guys, or are there stalls or something?_

Brian spoke, his tone light and conversational, "You don't have anything to worry about. The kids at school are mostly pretty good people. Sleepyside is small enough that we all at least know who each other is. At least most of them probably read about the search for Old Mr. Frayne's lost heir in the paper this summer, and they'll know it was you. If anything, they'll probably be a bit starstruck about you and your glamorous headline-news worthy life. "

"There's nothing glamorous about me or my life. I – I spent the last three years with Jonesy scared to death and wound so tight it didn't take much to set me off. All I've been much good at lately is running away."

"Well, you're here now. You're not running anymore, and you shouldn't feel bad about running to begin with. We're still kids, really. I know I'd be a nervous wreck if I struck out on my own, and I sure as heck don't have the kinds of reasons you did for running away. That stepfather of yours sounds like a pretty bad character."

Jim was silent for a moment. He hadn't really talked about Jonesy with Brian or Mart. Maybe it was because the girls had found him when he was in a particularly vulnerable position – he'd been so tired and hungry, his back still stinging from the beating he'd taken right before he'd run – that he had blurted out the whole story to them. With Brian and Mart, it had been different. He'd never been entirely sure how much they knew, and was reluctant to bring it up.

He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Yeah, he was pretty bad."

"Listen, I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable or anything by asking questions – I'm actually trying to do the opposite. You're a really straightforward kind of guy, and one thing we seem to have in common is that we both appreciate honesty, so I'm just going to be really upfront with you. Feel free to knock my block off if I cross a line."

Jim stared, too taken aback by Brian's direct approach to say anything at all.

Brian continued, "It's been really good having someone to hang around with who isn't my sibling. I love Trixie and Mart, but I've never had a friend close to my age who lived nearby, and I'm just really glad you moved here. I know Mart and I missed out on most of the summer being away, and that you got to be good friends with Trixie and Honey first, so it's only natural that you'd be more comfortable talking to them sometimes. If I were in your shoes, I'd be wondering like crazy what people were thinking, how much they know, and all that's just on top of the regular old anxiety of starting in a new school and meeting new people. I can't begin to imagine what you went through living with your stepfather, or what it was like running away and sleeping in the woods and all of that - I mean, I love camping as much as the next guy, but I like to get back to my bed when it's all said and done." The oldest Belden sibling took a deep breath. "I know he beat you, and I know you're worried about people finding out and thinking differently about you. You don't want people acting like you're a victim and all that. I just wanted _you _to know that _I_ know, and that it doesn't change my opinion of you at all. If anything, it makes me respect you more, because I know what a good guy you are and how much you had to overcome to stay that way."

Unable to reply right away, Jim was struggling with his emotions. He hadn't had a best friend since before his mother had married Jonesy and they'd moved to Albany, but listening to Brian Belden's speech, he knew he had one now. A guy couldn't ask for a better friend than Brian.

"I –"

"Just listen for a second. I've got the feeling there's some stuff you've been worried about for awhile. When we first got back from camp and went up to your house to change for riding, you kept your back to the wall the whole time you were changing your shirt. And at the lake when we all went swimming, you kind of froze on the dock. I saw Honey's face – she knew what you were worried about, and I guessed it. You've got some scars, probably. Am I right?"

Jim nodded wordlessly.

"How bad is it?"

Hands shaking with nervousness, Jim pulled his t-shirt up to reveal the damage, then quickly pulled it back down.

When Brian spoke, his tone was calm, and held no pity, only friendly concern. "The two scars over here," he patted Jim's right shoulder lightly, "aren't very noticeable, really. And, they should keep on fading with time. The other one looks worse, but it's a lot smaller. It'll probably fade away even more than the other two. In the meantime, if you're worried about it, we'll get to the gym for basketball early and get you a locker in the corner against the back wall, so you won't have to worry."

Palpable relief coursed through his body. He could hardly trust his voice. He wasn't particularly vain – it was just the idea that Jonesy had left a mark, something lasting, on him that he hated. He already felt terribly conspicuous as a new arrival in town without the added burden of people whispering behind his back about him.

He flashed Brian a weak grin. "Thanks. I mean it. I – like I told Trixie and Honey that first day, I just hadn't been around decent people for so long, I keep expecting the worst. You Beldens and the Wheelers have done nothing but surprise me over and over again."

Brian returned his friend's smile. "Well, to hear Trixie talk about you in the letters she wrote me and Mart at camp, we're still waiting for you to launch into flight or pick up a house from its foundations or something. Get a move on, Frayne! We need proof that she didn't exaggerate her claims."

At the mention of Trixie and her apparent misrepresentation of him to her brothers, his face felt hot, but he couldn't stop the smile those words caused. "Trixie? Exaggerate?"

"You really have no idea what Mart and I have had to put up with. You'll learn, grasshopper. There is so much history to catch you up on – let's see. How about last year when she became convinced that there were squatters living in the Manor House, and went snooping over there, only to be caught by real estate agents hired by the Spencers to evaluate the property for sale. They didn't call the police, thankfully, but they did deliver her back to Moms and Dad with a word of advice not to assume that people are tramps and thieves without some kind of proof."

Jim chuckled at this. Apparently, she hadn't learned her lesson. He remembered waking up on the mattress in Uncle James' wreck of a house, disoriented with exhaustion, hunger, and fear, only to be accused of being a burglar and a tramp as well. Aloud, he asked, "The Spencers?"

Brian nodded. "The last people to live in the Manor House before you and Honey and the Wheelers. I barely remember them, really. I just remember Moms and Dad mentioning them every now and then, mostly in the context of, 'Do you think the Spencers will ever sell the place?'"

The boys had arrived at the stables, where Regan met them with Jupiter in tow. "Good to see you fellows! I was about to take this one out for some exercise – want to take over for me, Jim?"

Enthusiastically, Jim nodded. "The girls and Mart are on their way up as well. We wanted to have one last carefree ride before school starts."

The red-haired groom laughed, "So, after today all of your rides will be careworn, solemn affairs? It's just school, Jim. I heard tell that you're kind of an old pro at it."

Letting Jupiter out into the corral while he started getting the other horses ready for Mart and the girls to save time, Jim gave the groom a rueful grin. "It's not the school part that has me worried. It's being the new kid."

Regan gave him a sympathetic pat on the back, understanding in that simple gesture that Jim wasn't just talking about being a new kid at school.

* * *

After a long ride in the game preserve, Brian and Mart headed home to Crabapple Farm to help Peter Belden with some chores they had promised to get done before school started and they didn't have as much time. Trixie and Honey were supposed to take care of the horses, as Jim and Brian had gotten them ready for the ride, but Jim stayed to help them anyway. He didn't mind the work – he loved the horses – and he wasn't in the mood to head up to the house by himself. As he brushed Strawberry's coat, the horse whinnied softly, and he stroked the horse's velvety nose. Nearby, Trixie was working on making Lady comfortable, while Honey saw to cleaning the tack. He studied Trixie's profile, thinking of the conversation he'd had with Brian earlier, before the ride.

"So, Trix. I hear that my uncle's house wasn't the first one you waltzed into, accusing people of being tramps and thieves."

She turned to face him, blushing furiously. "Brian. You've been talking to Brian, haven't you?"

"Yep."

"Don't get used to being best pals with Brian, 'cause I'm going to kill him when I get home!"

Jim laughed. "Don't worry. I think he was just doing his brotherly duty by making sure my opinion of you doesn't get too high. I hear it gets lonely living on top of a pedestal."

She shook her head, but she smiled. "That was the most back-handed compliment I've ever heard , even from Mart. If you wanted to tell me you think I'm swell, why don't you just say it?"

"I never said his brotherly plan worked. If anything, knowing I'm not the first poor fellow to be accused of trampery and thievery makes me feel a little bit better."

Honey giggled. "I don't think 'trampery' is a word. I Iike it, though."

Finishing with Lady's grooming, Trixie led the gray mare into her stall. She stood on tiptoe to give the gray nose a kiss. "You're a sweet horse, Lady. I'm sorry I ever had my head turned by that fellow." She tossed her blond head in the direction of Jupiter, who was contentedly snacking on some fresh oats in his stall nearby. "You have lovely manners. He's a handsome devil, but a bit of a cad."

Honey smiled at her friend's antics and joined in. "Don't you listen to her, Jupiter. You're a perfect gentleman. You didn't throw her on purpose. It's not your fault. We don't have to listen to those two maligning your character!" She pulled a carrot from the bin of vegetables and fed it to the big horse.

The three friends finished taking care of the horses and headed up the Manor House. As they passed by the kitchen door, a small, gray shape darted out of nowhere and slammed into Jim's shins, purring rather violently. It was the mother cat he and Trixie had rescued. Nearby, her kittens rolled over each other, mewing and play-fighting. The cats had first been kept in the Belden garage, but the Manor House staff had managed to lure the feline family away with frequent feedings and lots of scratching. Celia and Cook were mad about the tiny little kittens, and one of them was already promised to Tom Delanoy, who was undoubtedly adopting the kitten as much for Celia as for himself. Miss Trask and Regan had set up a comfortable box for the small family in an outbuilding that had once been some kind of gardening shed near the garage. After the kittens had been found homes, they intended to have the mother cat fixed and continue to offer her a good home.

Bending down to give in to the aggressively cuddly demands of the gray cat, Jim scratched her ears until she rolled over, and then picked her up to scratch under her chin. "Hi there, mama cat. You're just not happy to call it a day until you've rammed your head into somebody's legs hard enough to bowl them over, are you?" In answer, the cat purred ecstatically, and wiggled to be put down. He obliged, and the gray cat moved on to the next victim. She flung herself at Trixie's shins and repeated her demands. She then moved on to Honey, who picked her up and stroked her ears gently.

"She's such a sweet kitty and a good little mother. She makes sure all of the kittens are in the box each night, and if anyone escapes, she carries them back in her mouth. I just can't hardly look at her without thinking of you nearly getting bitten by a copperhead, though." She shuddered, gripping Trixie's hand.  
"To think, I wasn't even around to help you!"

Jim patted the cat's head. "You sure picked a heck of a place to raise a family, didn't you? I'd tell you to pick a better place next time, but there won't be a next time if Miss Trask has anything to say about it. Your days as a mom cat are numbered, missy!"

Leaving the cat with her babies, they made their way to the veranda and sat on the glider. Honey was the first to speak. "We all three talk to animals like they're people. We've got that in common. No matter how many new friends we make at school, we'll always have that. Our Dr. Doolittle tendencies!"

Trixie and Jim both laughed. "I know you'll both make all kinds of friends at school. Honey, you're so pretty all the girls will want to be friends with you and the boys will be crazy about you. Jim – you'll wow them all with your woods knowledge and didn't you say you were trying out for the basketball team with Brian?"

He nodded. "I'm basically going to be glued to Brian at least for the first day. Wheresoever goeth Brian, there also shall go Jim. I'll admit it – I'm chicken."

Trixie scowled. "That sounded like something Mart would say. He's got some kind of annoying book about speaking Shakespearean English or something like that. He's already rubbing off on you. It's just not fair."

"I'm chicken too," Honey announced. "I'm just scared to death – what if nobody likes me? In books, kids are always getting bullied by older kids or mean girls or something. What if that happens to me?"

"First off, I've been in school in Sleepyside my whole life and nothing like that has ever happened to me. And, you're much more tactful and less likely to put your foot in your mouth than I am. Second of all, your big brother wouldn't let anyone bully you. You'll have me, and you'll have Jim. And Brian and Mart, not that _he'd_ be good for anything other than talking a bully to death. I'll take care of any mean girls, and Jim can handle any bullies, right?"

He nodded firmly. "No reason to fear, sis. You're going to be fine. Miss Trask says you were a good student when you went to boarding school. I'm sure you will be here too."

The glider rocked back and forth, and the three teenagers looked out over the lawn down to the lake, where the sun was starting to head toward the horizon. The air still felt like summer, but on Monday they would start school, and their summer would be over.

Jim took a deep breath and relaxed on the glider. The air was warm, but somehow felt … different. Somehow, it was just easier to breathe than it had been for years. He had a brand new full-blooded adopted sister on his left and the fascinating, energetic girl next door on his right. Inside the enormous house he could now call home were adoptive parents who had cared enough about him to take him in, Miss Trask who had done so much to make him comfortable and happy, and his own room, filled with his own things and a soft, comfortable bed – better than a mattress full of money to sleep on, any day. Down in the hollow was Crabapple Farm, where the Beldens were already like a second family to him. He couldn't believe that in one summer, one incredible summer of change that he had left Jonesy and Albany behind, found and lost Uncle James, met Trixie and Honey, run away, worked on a farm, thwarted criminals near Autoville, been found by Trixie and Honey, and summarily adopted by the Wheelers.

Next to him on the glider, Trixie spoke softly, "Honey's fallen asleep."

His brand new sister had leaned back and drifted off, her head hovering inches above his shoulder. Gently, he eased her head down to rest against his arm.

"I think you've got the big brother thing down really good, Jim." Trixie leaned her head back against the glider, looking up at the sky that was beginning to turn reddish gold with the sunset. She let out a big sigh. "Gleeps! What a summer! I can't believe it's over. Everything did end up turning out exactly the way I hoped they would, though. We found you, we got to keep you, and I actually got to find a real hidden treasure!"

He turned his head to face her, careful not to dislodge his sleeping sister. "You're a pretty swell girl, Trixie Belden."

A startled expression widened her china blue eyes. "What?"

"You told me earlier if I wanted to tell you that you were swell, I should just come out and say it, so I am. You, Trixie Belden, are swell. "

She blushed slightly, but met his gaze with a smile. "You too, Jim. You too."

* * *


End file.
